


Trust & other concepts of shared life

by moon_hedgehog



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Other, Secret Crush, Venom uses it pronouns ok, small unfinished, that i won't finish but post anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 15:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17562830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/pseuds/moon_hedgehog
Summary: Eddie now has his very own headache. Congratulations, Eddie!





	1. Chapter 1

“Remember our first meeting?” suddenly and with lots of inspiration, a symbiote began in the morning, while Eddie was sullenly peering into the bottom of a coffee cup in search of the meaning of life.

He had to frown and nod in caution – you wouldn't forget things like that, but what exactly his newfound headache meant, he still hadn't succeeded to understand. But on this Venom unexpectedly shut up, either processing the fact that he'd just spoken to his owner – partner? Friend? - for the first time in a week of silent treatment when, after a month of coexistence, the two quarreled again; or even remembering those most pleasant events itself. Although to each their own, for example, San Francisco still couldn't recover, and Anne shined with her heels and clicked back to her lover, leaving after herself only a bright smile. You just don't immediately get used to the fact that your ex-fiance is now a body for an alien invader. Anyway.

“Something like, yeah, what are you getting at?” perhaps another cup of coffee wouldn't hurt. Brock swallowed his own yawn, heard the crack of teeth in his head, and lazily dismissed it. “Like the last idiot on earth, I decided to be a hero and save people, and you almost killed me. Yeah. A classic.”

“What?!” the symbiote protested instantly, black mucus emerging from behind and spreading along the wall with floral wallpaper (because repairs). “Don't you dare, I liked you immediately, human.” It grimaced in an inaccessible for Eddie's mind emotion and muttered: “As soon as I saw you, realized you were perfect.”

_Romance –_ Brock wanted to blurt out, but successfully bit his tongue, and reached for the coffee machine. Venom murmured something like “riiiiiight”, and washed away and out of sight.

Was reading thoughts, little shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie damn Brock knew sheer nothing about flirting.

It's with exactly this was occupied the consciousness of Venom, threateningly sitting on the top of 555 California Street and absolutely not threateningly humming some song heard in car's radio. The dark sky and starlit light of the night city hid it from unnecessary glances; the couple of onlookers who filmed its and Riot's battle went unobstructedly unnoticed. The symbiote did not understand how the human spider web works, but it didn't like spiders, and therefore didn't go into the details of how his partner had been getting rid of unnecessary rumors. Human emotions served Venom much bigger interest. Watching scrambling ants from the shelter of its owner's body, it learned to recognize the intonations of their voices, to catch and read looks, to notice the slightest movement of members. So it learned about patterns of behavior in a given situation, about methods of courting their elects, and about a thousand and one useful and interesting things. So Venom understood one very important fact. Eddie damn Brock knew nothing about flirting.

All his attempts to reclaim that long-legged human female, who once teamed up with Venom in order to bring its true partner back, ended up on the verge of collapse and a jock. Once having lost his temper, Brock decided to “pick up a chick in a bar” as he put it – and this time, everything ended with the fact that after an awkward joke, he'd been thrown out of that bar feet first; under furious “I'll bite their heads off” grunts of Venom. Of course, the alien itself wanted to help him (it promised!), but watching the innumerable failures was way too funny. And according to Eddie himself, a sense of humor was extremely developed in this symbiote.

“Are you going to freeze us both?” grumbled that same Eddie, distracting it from thoughts of yesterday's praise (“good Venom, we eat only bad guys”). These thoughts savored a nice light yellow color.

Its partner preferred not to go into details of any conversation when they were at the height of more than a three-floored building – now he was fussing about something theatrically, hinting that it's time to get out, not a one hour was spent. Venom narrowed its eyes. It could use a dangerous trick “just five more minutes” that for some reason always worked on Brock – did he have a weakness? - but rightly decided that there's always time to stare at the city. In the end, they aren't in a hurry.

And if Eddie damn Brock knew sheer nothing about flirting – Venom's holy duty was to help him.


	3. Chapter 3

The light of the rising sun was making its way through drawn curtains, sprawling across the parquet and splashing around the walls with stains of spilled paint. It was an early morning, so early that even ever-awake San Francisco buzzed with only a miserable couple of cars. More than half God's creatures were still peacefully sleeping in their beds, enjoying black and white and color-wrapped dreams – a reporter of his own show Eddie Brock was just one of those creatures. Venom wasn't.

Like a ball, it curled up on beige sheets, imitating the behavior of small animals, which it almost tried to taste a couple of times. Taking their form was fun. It still remembered this feeling – to be inside the body of a beast that Anne Weying dubbed “chihuahua”; and did everything to imitate it. This caused seizures of nervous laughter of his host, and it sharply smiled itself. Venom didn't like human laughter at all. Loud. Volatile. Too many emotions. But Eddie's laugh was different. It floated in the air with a tricolor ringing of little bells above the entrance doors of Chinese shops, and carried so much _tru-st_ ; the symbiote was ready to listen to it for hours, like a record of a gramophone.

Eddie himself was different. Sunbeams bounced across his face, tickling his nose and shaping lips; his eyelids quivered, and Venom could feel the fragments of images whizzing in his head; and at night, he wrapped himself in a blanket like he'd been freezing for thousands of years in a row, but the next morning woke up with that same blanket on the floor. Studying him was… interesting. But this isn't exactly what symbiote felt, looking at the wrinkled nose and disheveled hair on the pillow – and it understood that. This, a completely different feeling, illuminated its essence from the inside, making its way through the amorphous body with tiny spikes. Strange. Cute.

_Cute_ – thought Venom, stretching a sprout and touching his man's cheek, feeling the warmth of a sleeping body. Brock mumbled something unintelligible, and the alien instantly pulled back, not wanting to bother Eddie. Let him rest. If need be, Venom would protect him from the whole world.


	4. Chapter 4

Eddie frowned at the dirty laundry basket and understood one simple truth. He had absolutely nothing to wear. All T-shirts – even that beloved one, with Pikachu – turned out to be shamelessly destroyed by his jumps from state to state, when he had to interview in devil-knows-where. He didn't see the resolution of this problem point-blank, besides taking into account that the last long-sleeved shirt was lost a week ago; and going out with a hoodie on a naked body wouldn't even be that indecent… just cold. Autumn in the yard. Halloween is coming.

Interested in a new round of his thoughts, the symbiote lifted its head, staring at nowhere with whitish eyes.

“Eddie, what is Halloween?”

Brock scratched his chin, not completely knowing how to explain it. His partner, of course, was a diligent student and would quickly get everything, but as long as Eddie remembered himself, he never paid much attention to this holiday. Well, he had no desire to sculpt fluffy wings to his back and hook nimbus on his head, especially in San Francisco… although free candy…

“It's a holiday,” he murmured, still dreaming of getting relatively clean clothes out of the basket. “When children, and sometimes not only children, wear costumes of all kinds of monsters and go to homes where they are given sweets. Well and they, like, scare each other, watch horror movies, and so on...”

And although from the uncertainty in Venom's voice one could realize it understood absolutely nothing, it nevertheless hurried to reply:

“A holiday built on fear… I like… We'll celebrate it, Eddie!”

_I didn't even doubt –_ Brock snorted to himself, shaking his head. What was he thinking, remembering about Halloween? Well, at least it'd be possible to show “Alien” to the symbiote now. He had long wanted, time to make dreams come true.

“That's all fine, of course, but what am I supposed to wear?” he groaned to himself rather than to someone else.

The answer, however, received. After a second, a ticklish feeling around the waist made him lower his eyes. And open his jaw. Thin, yet durable and light black matter entangled his torso centimeter by centimeter, hiding the skin. Thin needles ran down the back, wrapped arms, and turning to the nearby mirror, Eddie found himself wearing a sweater with a hood full of grinning fangs and a tongue curling down his shoulder. Venom was getting used to this state for some time, then seethed:

“Like it?”

Brock didn't know what to say, so he just nodded honestly.


	5. Chapter 5

Venom quickly learned that as a rule, people express an emotion of joy with their arms. In its mind, joy shimmered with pastel-yellow tones of the pre-dawn sky but was so elusive, it's a sin to say. As creatures with a limited primary set of emotions, the symbiotes cognized the positive ones quite rarely, and at first, Venom was completely baffled. It didn't know how to cope with the swirling impulses to make his man something that would make him smile, which means it would bring joy to the alien itself. For long days and sleepless nights, it studied causes of laughter and its influence on the most primitive human organisms; later, closely got to embraces. And – cuddles. If the first was something decent in society, then the second was perceived as something more intimate, which means it was perfect for the symbiote and its owner. They are one, inseparable partners and – perhaps quite a bit because Venom didn't fully understand the meaning of this word itself – friends.

So when, after a tiring day at work, Eddie found himself lying on a sofa, wrapped in black alien goo imitating a hug, he… wasn't too surprised. Didn't even make a scene. So, muttered a little under his nose, and embarrassedly hugged it in response.

Venom was pleased with this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's inspired by a tumblr post!! that my dumb ass can't find anymore.

Eddie sneezed. Then sneezed again. Then rubbed his nose and ran his eyes over the mirror, once again checking the condition of a classic suit sitting on him. Somewhere over his ear sounded a weary sigh, and Venom curled around his shoulders like a cat… with deadly fangs and abundant salivation, but a cat.

“How long you'll be digging here, darling?” it mocked purrily, clinging to the perfectly ironed fabric with claws.

Eddie stifled a murderous impulse to roll his eyes, swallowing and mumbling something like:

“Leave me alone, evil within.”

At least he had enough brain not to call it “parasite” – a symbiote would've started to rage again. And if in their relationship with Venom had established a warm truce, of which Brock thought as of friendship more and more often; their relationship with Anne could be described as warm… indifference. For all these months, it was fine to come to terms with the idea that “she's not yours” quite successfully, and Dan seemed to be a good guy – and therefore Eddie was in no hurry to rush all in and use the symbiote in that promised return of her (despite all the symbiote's attempts to train him in flirting). This didn't prevent Anne from inviting him to a party of rich idiots where he could gather gossip for the next materials. And that's why the unfortunate journalist had been spinning in front of a mirror for about an hour, ignoring the danger of being late, to the accompaniment of sighs of his black and slimy partner.

“Ed-die,” Venom sang, licking the tip of his ear and making its host to wrinkle. “I'll never understand dress code. You are ideal. Come on.”

_Well, thanks –_ thought Brock even before managing to ask himself “what the fuck is this flirting”, but this was swept away in a panic realization:

“Bow-tie!”

Symbiote hissed something surprised and not quite articulate, while his man rushed around the apartment in search of a strange thing. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, Eddie sank down on the floor, hiding his head in his hands and nearly jerking up his hair. For the value of this hair, Venom got frankly frightened, so it curled up beside him and asked a very reasonable, as it seemed to it, question:

“Eddie, what?”

But Eddie gave only an inhuman cry and completely refused to answer, so as always, the symbiote had to take absolutely everything under its control. Deftly and painlessly rummaging in the memory of its host, it realized what was, in fact, a matter of speech, and snorted. Human gods, why must Brock have a bow-tie if he has Venom? Honestly, it's time to get used to it, Eddie.

 

“So you're all alone here?” a big-haired lady smiled to him seductively, with lips painted ugly ruby.

Eddie wanted to answer “yes”, but felt the bow-tie clinging to his throat with tentacles, blocking oxygen, and only squeezed out hoarsely:

“N-no. With my boyfriend.”

And why was this answer the first one that got into his head... Well, he thought of it much, much later.


End file.
